


Falling and Floating

by EmeraldWaves



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Afterlife AU, Angst, Day 7, Free Choice, Implied Past Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Reisaru Week 2016, Sarucentric, Suicide Flashbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 04:30:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8475469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldWaves/pseuds/EmeraldWaves
Summary: Saruhiko is used to falling in a variety of ways, but lately he's found that floating in the hotel's pool is rather addicting, even if an obnoxiously cheerful man keeps bothering him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Day 7 of Reisaru week, Free Choice. Please, please, please read the tags first as this may contain triggering material for some. That being said, this is the fic I'm most proud of, so I do hope people enjoy this.

At night, the outdoor pool was illuminated by one single pool lamp in the deep end, but if it had been completely dark, Fushimi Saruhiko still would’ve jumped in. His feet hit the water first with a loud slap, his body quickly submerging under the water as his clothes floated around his thin limbs. Bubbles trickled out through his nose as he let himself float completely engulfed by the chlorinated water.

The sounds of evening were drowned out by the water clogging his ears. Air slipped from his lungs and for a moment Saruhiko allowed himself to float—a sensation Saruhiko hadn’t experienced in quite some time.

Saruhiko was used to falling—falling to the floor after his father delivered a loud slap to his cheek, falling away from his classmates as he buried himself in his books and schoolwork, falling for a boy who would never give him the attention he deserved and needed—falling.

But in the water, Saruhiko discovered he could float. The water would hold his weight, as his blue gaze stared up at the black, shimmery sky above him while the chlorine burned at his eyes. Sometimes he floated on the surface, counting the glistening stars, his legs gently kicking at the water as he kept himself afloat. Other evenings, he let himself drift under the water, the bubbles trailing from his nose to the surface as he let his body feel free. His thin limbs rippled through the liquid as he kept himself immersed in the water until his lungs burned hot, and his chest grew tight, desperate for oxygen.

It had become addicting—floating.

Saruhiko had lost track of how long he’d been staying at the small hotel tucked away from the city. He had left that place behind, for good reason, and now he spent his days working on his laptop and searching for new apartments he could afford far away from _them_ , far away from his family (if you could call them that), far away from anyone he knew. So far the search hadn't yielded any good results.

He’d first discovered the pool was empty in the evenings, or so Saruhiko had noted when he took the time to glance out his hotel room window. He’d been stalking Yata Misaki online, which never resulted in positive things. The asshole didn’t even seem to care Saruhiko had left—he was still posting pictures of him and his Homra buddies practically everyday, an idiotic smile on his idiotic face. And it always seemed to be the same picture, over and over again. The same group of people, smiling at him through the screen, as though they were mocking his inability to be happy there, at Homra. It was then that Saruhiko slammed his laptop shut and stormed down to the pool, jumping in.

Occasionally at night he sat at the desk by the slider door, letting the summer breeze drift in through the screen. If he gazed out, he could see the warm wind causing gentle ripples which rolled over the turquoise surface of the pool. His dark locks danced around his forehead, the warm breeze sending a shiver down his spine. And it was then he felt the itch in his legs, the desire to feel lighter than himself.

 Now, as he did almost every evening, he was floating with his eyes closed, his body relaxed on the surface of the warm water. After what felt like an eternity, he kicked his leg down and flipped himself back up, standing in chest deep water.

“Oya! I'm surprised you didn't hear me!”

“Hah!?” Saruhiko whipped his head around, droplets of water splashing from his hair to the surface of the pool. Crouched by the side was a man who Saruhiko would’ve labeled as ethereal looking, if not for his rather dorky looking tourist outfit—a bright blue, button down short-sleeved shirt with vibrant parrots on it and tan-khaki cargo shorts, completed with blue flip-flops. His hair was a deep blue, framing his thin face too perfectly. He wore metal-framed glasses and a beaming smile, and Saruhiko was already done speaking to him before their conversation had really begun.

“You were so still, floating on the surface of the water…I was about to alert the hotel staff!” he chuckled heartily.

“I’m fine. I was just getting out,” Saruhiko grumbled, pushing through the water to the steps at the edge of the pool. He stepped out and wrapped his towel around his waist.

“I’m glad to see you here,” the man said, smiling as he rose up from his crouching position. Saruhiko was surprised to see how tall he was, his purple eyes glistening against the one light which illuminated the pool.

"Why? You don't even know me," he muttered.

"A person can get lonely in a place like this," the man sighed.

"In a hotel? I'm pretty sure most people come here to get away," Saruhiko scoffed, and walked back inside the hotel, leaving the man standing by the water’s edge.

~

“So I take it you swim here every night.”

Saruhiko groaned, opening his eyes yet again to see the same man, sitting at the edge of the pool. His thin, muscular legs were draped over the edge, swinging in the water slowly, and this time, he had on a yellow shirt with ugly trout on it. Why this man felt the need to disturb him two nights in a row was beyond Saruhiko.

Standing back up, he began to make his way to the edge of the pool, until the man spoke again. “You don’t have to leave on my behalf!”

“I’m not doing you any favors, I’m doing myself one,” he growled.

“Mmm that so?”

“I don’t like to be disturbed. I swim at night to swim alone.” he said. He was going to have to start coming a little bit earlier if he wanted to avoid running into this awkward tourist man.

The man shut his eyes, his fingers curling around the edge of the pool as he swung his legs back and forth in the water. “Ah…I see,” he hummed, a smile still present on his face. “I apologize for burdening your swimming time.”

“Whatever,” Saruhiko replied, stepping out of the water to wrap his towel around his waist yet again. Maybe the man would leave him alone, now he knew Saruhiko preferred to swim alone. Though as he walked away, staring at the man’s creepy smile, he had a feeling he’d have no such luck.

~

And Saruhiko was correct. Even when he chose to swim at an earlier time, the man would show up, asking a random slew of questions.

“So how long have you been here?” he asked.

“Awhile.”

“And how long do you plan on staying?”

“Awhile,” Saruhiko repeated, always leaving him to stand by the edge of the pool. 

It was growing to be such a problem, Saruhiko expected him to show up other places too. He expected to see him when Saruhiko used his laptop in the lobby. He expected to see him at the complimentary breakfast he often went to at the hotel restaurant in the morning. But never was the strange man there. He was always alone when he did those things. Only at night, when Saruhiko wanted to float about in peace did the man disturb him.

“What is your name?” The man asked one night. He was sat on a step at the edge of the pool, shirtless, wearing only his ugly khaki cargo shorts. Saruhiko’s eyes scanned his body as he stepped out of the pool. The man would’ve been pretty, Saruhiko thought, if not for his nosy behavior, though it didn’t mean his body wasn’t nice to look at—far more muscular than Saruhiko had expected him to be under those ugly shirts.

“Good night,” Saruhiko said flatly as he stepped by the man and out of the water.

“Oya? Good night? What an interesting name,” he mused.

Rolling his eyes, Saruhiko clicked his tongue. “Tsk. That’s not my name.”

“I know. Contrary to what you may think of me, I’m not as unintelligent as you are assuming,” he chuckled.

“I don’t know anything about you,” Saruhiko muttered, about to add that he didn’t care either.

“Nor I you. However, only one of us seems determined to keep it that way,” he sighed, his lithe fingers gently stroking over the water, creating small ripples on the surface. It was graceful, as though the water wanted to mold to his fingers and keep him there forever. The man had to be some sort of demon to bother him this much while being so damn beautiful.

“Right.” He tucked the towel around his waist, as he did every evening.

“Munakata Reisi.”

“Hah?”

“It’s my name,” Munakata smiled, his head turned towards Saruhiko. “And I hope one of these evenings you’ll share yours.”

“Fat chance,” Saruhiko snapped, yanking the door to the hotel open.

~

_You have one new message._

_Hey Saru, it’s me, Misaki. I guess it's kind of stupid to call you like this. It's not as if you're going to get the message. We had that fight yeah...but it was all so fucking dumb...I miss ya’, we all miss you, everyone at Homra miss-_

Stopping the message, Saruhiko threw the phone onto the bed, watching it bounce against the pillow. What the hell was Misaki even saying? No one at Homra missed him, hell, Saruhiko was sure Misaki didn’t miss him either. He’d seen his pictures. The same pictures day after day. Misaki missed him in theory—it was probably weird for the other to be without him after they had been together for so long now.

Saruhiko had met Misaki in middle school, and after the short asshole had pestered him enough, Saruhiko had found Misaki weaseling his way far too deep into Saruhiko’s heart. He had always vowed to never get close to people, they generally let you down, just as his parents had, just as everyone had. Misaki, however, had seemed different. He was exuberant and bright, a complete contrast to Saruhiko, and somehow that energy had rubbed off on him.

Though he didn’t quite understand his own emotions, nor had he ever spoke of them to Misaki, Saruhiko was in love with the other boy. Together, it always felt as though they could conquer the world.

And that was why both of them had quit school and moved out, ready to take on whatever challenges came their way, as a team—together.

So perhaps that was why it hurt so much when Misaki met Suoh Mikoto. Misaki worshiped the guy for a reason Saruhiko never understood. He was ‘cool’, and so was everyone else in Homra, Suoh’s…gang, for lack of a better term. For awhile, Saruhiko put up with it, but quietly he began to fade into the shadows, watching as Misaki continued to get further and further from his reach.

A heated argument between him and Misaki gave Saruhiko the out he needed. Now, here he was, staying in a hotel, trying to find a new place to live. But he wasn’t really trying, he spent his nights floating in the pool, and his days staring at his laptop, looking at the same pictures over and over again.

Stepping out onto his balcony, he stared down at the still water of the pool. It was better this way, he’d decided. He didn’t have to stomach watching Misaki disappear further and further into Homra, and Saruhiko didn’t have to put up with those idiots any longer.

Clicking his tongue, he rolled his eyes when the door opened and Munakata walked out, taking a seat at one of the patio tables with a large book in his hand. He glanced up, waving with his creepy smile plastered to his face.

“Hello!” he called out. “Are you coming down for a swim?”

Saruhiko groaned, wondering if he could pretend as though he hadn’t heard the man, but when Munakata continued to stare he decided it would be better to answer than stare at that devilish smile. “Are you going to be down there?”

“Of course!” he smiled.

“Then, no!” he called back, turning back to head inside, lay on the bed, and stare at the ceiling. It was far less interesting, but it was better than trying to ignore Munakata.

“No?” Munakata called. “That’s a shame! I was looking forward to talking to you.”

Raising an eyebrow, Saruhiko stared down at the man as though he were crazy. Never had Saruhiko met someone so determined to simply have a conversation. Well, Misaki had always been pushy and he knew how that had turned out. There was no way in hell he was going to let this man sneak into his heart as Misaki had.

“Why? All I do is blow you off,” Saruhiko replied, surprised by his own words.

“You’re interesting!” Munakata smiled. “And don’t you get a little lonely being here all by yourself?”

“…No,” he called back, his voice quieter than he expected them to be. He didn’t get lonely. Saruhiko liked being on his own. Yet, for some reason, when he stepped back into his room, instead of laying on the bed, he grabbed his room key, heading to the door.

~

“Ah! Hello!” Munakata said, immediately shutting his book as Saruhiko stepped out of the hotel to the pool courtyard.

“Tsk, I didn’t come here to talk with you. I came here to swim,” Saruhiko snapped, and he slapped his towel angrily over a chair.

"I can see that," Munakata hummed, crossing one leg over another. "Still, you came down anyway, so obviously you can't hate me all that much," he chuckled, running his finger over the spine of the book.

"I don't want to talk to you, but I want to swim," he explained. "One thing outweighed the other," he grunted, slipping his foot into the water.

It felt colder than normal, the water. A shiver ran up from his leg to his spine, and he felt his flesh rise with a chill. What the hell was the hotel staff doing? It was supposed to be a heated pool, or at least that was what was advertised on their stupid tourist booklet he'd looked at in his room a few times.

"Cold?" Munakata asked, and Saruhiko glanced in his direction, glaring at him.

"S'fine," he grunted, and propelled himself forward, dipping into the icy water. He let out a soft gasp as the cold seeped under his skin. Closing his eyes, he tried desperately not to let the temperature bother him, but currently it was all he could focus on. The chills rolled through his spine and his thin body shivered the longer he stayed in the pool.

Munakata stood up, and removed his red shirt with beach balls on it, and stepped into the water. He let out a soft sigh. "It is rather chilly. I don't know how you're still swimming in this." He said, taking a seat on the edge.

Saruhiko didn't know how he was either, and the longer he floated in the pool, the hazier his vision grew. The sky began to spin, the stars swirling around him as he felt himself sink into the frigid, icy water. He went to reach his hand out but he couldn't, as though the cold had frozen his body, making it impossible to move. He opened his mouth to call out, but beneath the surface of the water, all that escaped his lips were a few bubbles of air and a muffled, high pitched noise Saruhiko couldn't recognize.

His vision grew dark, melding with the night sky above him, and he felt himself sinking faster. His heart pounding in ears, anxiety swirling in his chest. For so long he'd been spoiled by the pool, enjoying his relaxing floating, and now he was about to be swallowed by the dark, icy chasm.

He felt a pressure on his back, and he was yanked up to the surface, gasping for air as his body trembled against something warm. He clung to it, the warmth, his legs trembling as though he was trying not to fall back into the freezing water.

His vision began to return, and he realized he was pressed against Munakata's bare chest, panting heavily. The man had saved him it seemed, from...whatever the hell had just happened. The water hadn't been cold enough to freeze him, yet Saruhiko hadn't been able to move.

"Are you alright?" Munakata asked, his words somehow reaching Saruhiko's clogged ears. He took a deep breath in and swallowed, slowly nodding his head.

“Yeah,” he spoke finally, his own voice sounding foreign. 

“Good,” Munakata sighed, a rush of relief washing over his features. 

Saruhiko rolled his eyes, figuring he had to thank the idiot in some way. “Fushimi Saruhiko,” he muttered, pushing himself up and away from Munakata.

“Hm?”

“It’s…my name,” he said, and turned away fast so Munakata wouldn’t see the slight hint of a blush on his cheeks. He placed his hands on the side of the pool and pushed himself up, pulling onto the side of the pool and swung his legs around.

"Oya! Thank you for finally sharing it with me," Munakata smiled, looking so damn endearing. He hated the way his heart fluttered a bit at the man's smile. He had promised upon coming here that he wouldn't allow anyone else into his heart, not after Misaki.

"Yeah, well, thanks for the help or whatever," Saruhiko muttered, grabbing his towel as he stormed away, not wanting to stand by the pool any longer.

~

Saruhiko was starting to hate his computer. Everyday here was becoming monotonous—he'd wake up, turn on his laptop, start to listen to the message, turn both his phone and laptop off and go swimming, where he would inevitably run into Munakata. He wondered how long they both planned on staying in this place.

He stared at his laptop screen again, the same picture once again flashing in his face. Why was it that Misaki kept posting the same damn picture everyday? Or maybe he had blocked Saruhiko, and this was the only thing he could see now, a nice slap in the face every time he chose to see what Misaki was doing.

But why would Misaki block him after leaving the message he had?

_You have one saved message._

_Hey Saru, it’s me, Misaki. I guess it's kind of stupid to call you like this. It's not as if you're going to get the message. We had that fight yeah..._

Joke was on Misaki. Saruhiko _had_ gotten the message, he had just chosen to not care. He scrolled through his phone, his thumb hovering over Misaki's name. He wasn't going to call him back. He wasn't _ever_ going to call him back.

He placed the phone down on the desk, and shut his laptop, staring at both devices for a moment. What would it feel like to leave them both behind? He could disconnect from the world he knew completely, start anew—something new and completely fresh. The thoughts felt familiar, as though he had considered it so many times before.

The daylight was fading again, the cycle continuing, as the pink and orange sky kissed the pool deck, the water shimmering brightly, tempting Saruhiko to come down to the pool and swim like he always did.

It was earlier than normal, but yesterday the water had been so cold at night Saruhiko couldn't help but wonder if the pool would be a little warmer now, heated by the setting sun. And maybe if he was lucky, going to the pool earlier in the day would help him avoid Munakata, though at this point he was starting to believe avoiding him was utterly impossible.

~

For now, Saruhiko was alone, and he stood at the edge of the pool. The water was so still, minus the occasional ripple caused by the wind around him, and he curled his toes over the edge of the concrete.

Holding out his hands, he shut his eyes, the breeze brushing his dark bangs across his forehead. Normally, when he stood by the pool, he could smell chlorine, the chemical invading his nostrils. But this time, all he could smell was the ocean. The moldy, salty sea air dampening his skin and making his breathing fall short.

The wind picked up, his hair whipping against his skin and the sensation of falling hit his chest, his fingers cutting through the air as his body tilted forward, his feet slipping off of the edge. Saruhiko was used to falling, used to the sensation it brought his body. The way the breath was knocked from his lungs, and his body felt the pull of gravity, yanking him to the earth. It was an unbearable few seconds which would lead to the release he wanted—as soon as he hit the pool, he'd be floating again. The gentle water would take him in and wrap around him like a warm blanket.

His eyes shot open when he realized his feet had left the edge and he had yet to feel the pool. Beneath him were rocks, cliffs, and angry waves crashing against the shore. It was a long way down, and Saruhiko, as always, was falling.

He opened his mouth, as though he were about to scream, but instead, he felt his body slap against the water of the pool. The water distorted, splashing up and around him, creating waves through the small pool.

The water was still freezing, and panic rose in Saruhiko's chest as he turned himself onto his back, flailing about in the pool. The sun had completely set, but even with the one pool lamp on in the deep end and the stars in the night sky, Saruhiko didn't feel comforted at all.

What the hell had happened?! Where the hell was the place he had just seen, and how had he gone from that place, to the pool in a matter of seconds.

"I'm going crazy..." he muttered. Staying at the hotel was obviously getting to him.

"You're not," came Munakata's deep drawl from the shadow of an umbrella.

“What do you know? You don’t know anything about me!" Saruhiko snapped.

“Ah, but there is where you are wrong Fushimi-kun. For I do know at least one thing. You are exceedingly talented at running away."

"Well isn't someone smart," he snapped, letting the water drip down from his hair to his face.

"Indeed. Admittedly, I know many things," he said, stepping into the water. It was strange, how illuminated he was by the one light in the pool. As he stepped into the water, it seemed to part, moving aside as Munakata's body pushed against the liquid. He was beautiful, like a God, or King, commanding the element before him.

"Good for you," Saruhiko muttered, gripping the side of the pool. He felt dizzy and he tried not to focus on the single image of the cliff which kept flashing through his mind.

"You're pale," Munakata stated, walking closer and closer, until he stood right in front of Saruhiko. His thumb gently cupped Saruhiko's chin and tilted his head up, forcing their eyes to meet. "Do you know where you are, Saruhiko?"

He frowned, ignoring the heat which rose to his cheeks as he stared into Munakata's eyes. Was he checking to see if he was alright, after taking such a weird fall? "I'm at a hotel..."

"No," Munakata stated flatly, and Saruhiko raised an eyebrow, stepping back from him and shaking Munakata's hand away. He tripped, gripping the side of the pool as he fell into the water more, the water splashing around his chest.

"No?" Saruhiko repeated.

"Do you know where you are?" Munakata asked again, his face the most serious Saruhiko had seen it since he came to this damn place.

The cliff side came rushing back to him, the way the wind had felt in his hair, his arms stretched out as he had stared up at the swirling night sky...

"You're dead, Fushimi-kun." Somehow he had known. "And this is purgatory." 

"Purgatory?" Saruhiko swallowed, and the information hit him like the water smacking against his chest. He took a breath, desperately trying to feel if the air was real, but he couldn't seem to tell.

"Purgatory," Munakata repeated. "You, Fushimi Saruhiko, are dead." His face was somber, and Saruhiko was a good enough liar to know that Munakata was not lying.

Saruhiko opened his mouth to speak, attempting to find words, but he couldn't focus. His head pounded, as though he had smacked it against a wall. "Purgatory is...a hotel?" he said finally.

"For you. It's different for everyone," Munakata explained. "It's based around how you died, and your inner desires. For you, Fushimi-kun, you wished to escape and become someone else entirely. Hotels remind people of vacation, get aways, etc," Munakata explained.

The air felt thicker and Saruhiko tried to grip the edge of the pool but his hand felt clammy, sweat trickling down his neck. What was he supposed to do? Where was he was supposed to go from here? Heaven? Hell? It didn’t really seem fair, or true. Maybe if he dunked under the water and let his lungs burn long enough, he’d wake up from this loop he had somehow gotten caught in. 

His eyes darted about, glancing up the sky, glancing past Munakata to look at the horizon. It hit him now that there were no other buildings around, or roads or cars, something Saruhiko hadn’t noticed before. How had he been so unobservant of the world around him? Not that it mattered, even if he had realized it from the start he still would’ve been dead, and there was no way to go back from death. 

He sucked in a large breath of air, wondering if he had to breathe, but even when he tried to pause it for a moment, it turned out to be a habit he couldn’t quite break.

Dead. He trailed his hands over the surface of the water, his heart pounding in his ears. It was ridiculous to hear his own heart beat when the organ no longer kept his body alive. He could see, smell, hear, taste, touch...and for what purpose? 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of looping thoughts, Saruhiko spoke. "But...how does this relate to how I died?" he growled, glancing around at the water pooling at his waist. "Did...I drown?" He supposed that would explain his weird attraction to the water.

"I can't answer that question," Munakata said softly.

"So you tell me I'm dead but you can't tell me how I died?" Saruhiko snapped, his hand slapping at the water, droplets flying about between them, a few spots landing on Munakata’s glasses.

"I apologize, Fushimi-kun," Munakata said, bowing his head towards Saruhiko.

"Leave me alone," he hissed, pulling himself out of the cold water, and once again stormed away back to his room. He had no problem proving Munakata right—he was good at running away.

~

Dead.

Dead. He was dead. It sort of made sense when he thought about it. There was currently no one else in this damn hotel, at least not that Saruhiko had noticed. No one in the lobby, or the restaurant where he often ate breakfast. He'd seen no chefs, waiters...there wasn't even a concierge, and he'd not once found that strange or questionable. The only person he'd seen was Munakata.

Who had been disgustingly right about him. He was exceedingly talented at running away. He had never run so fast out of the pool and away from the man, who now, quite frankly seemed creepy. Who the hell was he? If Saruhiko was actually dead...did that make Munakata some sort of ghost...or maybe a grim reaper?

He glanced at his phone on the table, wondering how, if he were actually dead, he could have the device here with him.

_You have one saved message._

_Hey Saru, it’s me, Misaki. I guess it's kind of stupid to call you like this. It's not as if you're going to get the message. We had that fight yeah...but it was all so fucking dumb...I miss ya’, we all miss you, everyone at Homra misses you. I know you're not going to come back and I know it's partially my fault...or all my fault. I should've noticed...I should've...I'm sorry...I don't know why you-_

Misaki was crying, remorse heavy on his tone. Saruhiko's knuckles began to turn white as the phone trembled in his hand. Misaki should've felt guilty, he should've. Saruhiko would've been fine, had Misaki just noticed...

It _was_ his fault. Misaki was supposed to be at his side. They were meant to be a team, taking on the world together. But Suoh Mikoto...

Maybe it was _his_ fault—Suoh Mikoto was the one who had stolen Misaki from him.

He yanked open his computer, Misaki's page appearing before him immediately. Of course the picture was there, the one with all of Homra looking so damn happy, leaning up against the stupid bar with their stupid smiles, a moment captured in time which was meant to torture him.

Scrolling down, he could see more posts now, the same picture no longer repeating itself over and over. There were pictures of him and Misaki at Homra, the two of them sitting on the couch, Misaki clinging to Saruhiko as though he needed him, some sort of teasing lie. Moving backwards even more, there were pictures in their middle school uniforms, and Misaki was laughing with Saruhiko. The smile he'd enjoyed so much had, at one point, been for him and only him. Now, however, it only made his heart ignite with a burning jealousy and rage. He swiped his fingers over the track pad, the page shooting past the pictures, stopping on a post above the picture which had been haunting him for days.

 _Today I lost my best friend..._ With a growl, Saruhiko yanked the laptop forward and chucked it to the floor, the screen cracking, glass shattering onto the ground. He couldn't read or look at Misaki anymore.

Misaki was a selfish asshole and a liar. They weren't best friends. For the past year the two of them had been nothing. He couldn't read such a blatant lie.

He was dead, and Misaki, no, _no one_ cared he was gone. He lifted his cell phone, and held his hand high in the air, ready to slam it to the ground as he had done with the laptop, but something about losing all connection terrified him. His heart fluttered for a moment, anxiety trembling through his body, and Saruhiko punched at his chest, attempting to stop the feeling. His heart wasn't actually beating, so why the hell was his body making him feel so damn nervous.

He lowered the phone, placing it on the desk, not quite ready to rid himself of the device or Misaki's message.

~

"I think you're lying," Saruhiko said, tucking his knees up to his chest. His gaze was fixated on the calm water in front of him as he sat in one of the chairs by the pool. The water no longer comforted him...instead it made his heart throb with fear, as though he would be swallowed up by it once again.

"You don't," Munakata stated. It wasn't an argument, he simply was stating Saruhiko's thoughts out loud.

"And if this is just purgatory, where the hell am I supposed to go from here...can't I just go back?"

"No," Munakata chuckled. "And you're not the first person to ask me that. You have three options. Well two really, as I cannot tell you the other," Munakata continued. "Unfortunately, going back is not one of them."

"Then what are they?" Saruhiko asked, keeping his gaze locked on the water.

"You can choose to move on to the afterlife, or you will stay here until eventually your soul becomes lost," Munakata said softly.

"Lost?" Saruhiko repeated, though he wasn't sure he wanted to know what that meant.

"I do not have anymore information about it. All I know is you won't be here, nor will you be in the afterlife..."

Pursing his lips, Saruhiko let out a long sigh. "And who are you exactly?"

"I'm a Soul Guide," Munakata said.

"What's that?" Saruhiko asked, finally turning to look at Munakata. The man smiled, pulling down on his blue shirt, the one with the strange looking fish on it.

"It means it's my job to guide your soul to the afterlife. As I said, each person's purgatory is different. Yours looks like this, some people live in a house by the beach, some live in a city, surrounded by faceless others, it varies depending on the person. My job is to help the soul accept death and move on," Munakata explained, his speech long-winded.

"And yet you can't tell me how I died?" he asked.

"No."

Saruhiko scoffed, folding his arms. "For someone so pretty, you sure are useless," he muttered.

Munakata chuckled. "You think I'm pretty? It's been awhile since anyone has said that."

"I dunno how," he said, still mumbling. "It was one of the first things I noticed. It makes sense you're a...Soul Guide or whatever...even if you can't tell me how I died."

"No, Fushimi-kun," Munakata said, continuing to laugh. "That is for you to discover on your own."

~

He rested his cheek on his knee, one leg extended into the pool. Moving his leg back and forth slowly, he noticed the water was warm again. Maybe now that he had figured it all out, or well, most of it, the pool was inviting him to go back in.

This was how it had been for the past few days now, if you could even call them days. He was unaware of time passed in this realm. Saruhiko sat at the end of the pool, touching the water, and Munakata stayed by his side. The two sat in silence, neither saying a word, though Saruhiko wondered if Munakata felt he _should_ be saying something. There were times when the taller man would open his mouth, as though he were about to speak, yet nothing came out.

He had to have drowned. It was the only explanation for why he was so drawn to the damn water. Still, he wasn't quite sure how. From what he could remember about his life, he hadn't been much of a swimmer. He'd hated the beach, and really he wasn't a fan of pools either, ironically.

Pushing himself from the edge of the pool, Saruhiko sank into the water, floating on his back as he stared up at the night sky. He could remember just a few days ago, when doing this exact same thing had brought him such peace. Now all he could do was stare at the stars, wondering where he was going to end up.

"Fushimi-kun?" Munakata asked, peering over him as he floated in the water.

"I have to figure it out sooner or later," he muttered. "You said it yourself, you can't tell me, and if I stay here I won't be able to move on ever. An eternity of this sounds horrible, and I doubt you can stay here with me forever."

"This is true, I cannot," Munakata nodded.

"...Yeah," he sighed, closing his eyes, attempting to focus. He doubted anyone wanted to remember how they had died after their soul had worked so hard to forget, but he didn’t want to stay here forever.

The world began to spin as he floated, a familiar sensation. The stars began to blend into one as he shut his eyes, though his lids trembled, scared of what he would witness. 

He could see the cliff again, and he recalled standing there. His shoes had teetered on the side, the tips of his shoes levitating, while the rest of his foot stayed planted on the edge. The wind brushed against his bangs, making them whip against his forehead, and a chill ran down his spine, as he peered into the raging waves below. His vision blurred, making him feel dizzy. There was nothing for him in that world, and there never had been. Soon the current would swallow his body, eat him whole and fill his lungs with it’s suffocating salt. A gust of wind wrapped around him and just like that he was falling, as though he’d been pushed. The wind flowed around his chest and torso as he felt himself plummeting into icy water, his back throbbing as his bones cracked against the hard surface. He felt his lungs burn and his chest tightened, as he gasped, lurching forward as he rest his feet on the ground of the pool.

"I did it..." he whispered, his hand resting on his chest.

"You remembered?" Munakata asked quietly. Out of the corner of his eyes, Saruhiko could see Munakata reach forward, but quickly pull his hand back, recognizing Saruhiko would not want to be touched.

"...It was me. I...fell...or...jumped," he said quietly, his voice not sounding like his own. "I have to...I can't...be here," he said. His lungs still burned, and his voice felt gargled, as though he swallowed gallons and gallons of the icy sea water. He began to shiver, the pool's temperature falling fast. His legs trembled, feeling like they were going to freeze in the icy cold water.

Munakata's arm rest on his shoulder, ignoring his first instinct to pull back. He wrapped around Saruhiko, warmth spreading through his body. "It's alright, Fushimi-kun. Let's get you back to the room."

~

He couldn't remember how exactly he had gotten back to the hotel room. Munakata's warm body had been close to his, walking him back, helping him to sit on the edge of the bed. He'd left him then, respecting Saruhiko needed some private space to process everything that had happened so far.

Suicide. Being dead was one thing, but...this was different. Personal. Something he had purposefully done himself. He tried to remember why he would've done something like that. He could only assume it was because he thought nothing would ever change. He'd been betrayed by his own parents, betrayed by Misaki, and at the end of the day he had been so exhausted, so tired of being so incredibly lonely, that he’d even been betrayed by himself.

But why...why had he chosen to do _that_ instead of asking Misaki...or telling him how he felt. Why had _this_ been the better choice? Leaning forward, he grabbed his phone off of his desk.

_You have one saved message._

_Hey Saru, it’s me, Misaki. I guess it's kind of stupid to call you like this. It's not as if you're going to get the message. We had that fight yeah...but it was all so fucking dumb...I miss ya’, we all miss you, everyone at Homra misses you. I know you're not going to come back and I know it's partially my fault...or all my fault. I should've noticed...I should've...I'm sorry...I don't know why you chose to die...of all the things. You're such an ass! You've always been an ass, but I didn't think you were this much of an ass! Fuck...I wish I could've stopped you....I'm sorry, Saru...I'm just so damn sorry..._

He had always thought Misaki was the selfish one. Misaki had been the one to leave him behind. It was supposed to be Misaki's fault.

But it wasn't.

It was _his_ fault. In the end, what he had done had been far more selfish and far worse than what Misaki had done. His leaving had been permanent. There was no fixing it now. "I'm...sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, Misaki."

~

"Did you know?" Saruhiko asked. He stood by the pool, and stared at Munakata. He wasn't sure how long he had sat in his room, but it was long enough that Munakata looked relieved to see him come out by the pool once again.

Munakata shut his eyes, and smiled, though there was sadness in the way his lips had curled upwards. "I did," he said softly. "But I-"

"Couldn't tell me. I know," Saruhiko sighed. There was a silence between them, only the gentle sound of the breeze flew around them. "Can I ask you something?"

"Alright," Munakata said. "I can't make any promises about answering your questions though. There are rules."

"Yeah...Are you dead? I mean...were you human once? I guess you're kind of a grim reaper now? Or an angel?" Saruhiko asked.

He let out a small laugh. "I suppose you could call me any one of those things. But yes I am dead. I died many, many years ago."

"How did you die?" Saruhiko asked.

Munakata's eyes widened, surprised by the question. Though quickly, his expression darkened. "Well...people don't usually ask me that, but if you must know, I too...chose to take my own life. There was a man...I killed him to...save him," Munakata laughed again. "I suppose that sounds quite strange when you don't know the circumstance." He pressed his glasses up with a sigh. "Either way...I couldn't live with the guilt of it and here we are," he said.

Swallowing, Saruhiko bit on his lip. "Sounds to me like you were just as lonely as I was."

Munakata hummed softly, closing his eyes. "This is true."

All his life, Saruhiko had wanted nothing more than to feel comfortable. He wanted to feel welcomed, cared about. Over the course of his life, he'd experienced bursts of it. Misaki...had tried, but Saruhiko had placed so much on him. It had never been fair. His heart was a heavy burden, one Misaki hadn't been able to handle, one Saruhiko couldn't handle himself. Munakata had known all this, known all about Saruhiko and his past, and still he had sat in silence, by his side to help him, carrying this burden towards peace. Stepping forward, Saruhiko wrapped his fingers around Munakata's. Tilting his head up, he pressed his lips against Munakata's cheek. "Thank you...for...waiting here with me...or whatever," he grumbled, pouting as he pulled away.

Munakata's cheeks flushed, and Saruhiko smirked, happy to see the well-composed man thrown off-guard. "You're welcome. It is...my job in a way...my atonement for my selfish choice, but it...helps to help people like you move on," he said softly. "You had a difficult life, Fushimi-kun, if I can help alleviate some of this hurt for you to be at peace, I want to do that for you. You're...a good person, no one should have to face a life like that alone."

Blushing, Saruhiko turned away from him, unable to look him in the eye after Munakata spoke such genuine words. "Do you regret it? What you did I mean."

"Sometimes," Munakata replied, reaching forward to gently touch a piece of Saruhiko's hair. "Do you?"

"Right now...yeah," he said softly. "But..." he sighed. "I assume in time I'll accept it. I mean...I guess I have to," he chuckled sadly.

"Perhaps," Munakata said, pushing his glasses up. "There is...a third option I haven't been able to mention until now," he said.

"A third option?" he asked, finally turning back towards Munakata.

"For those who end their own lives, there is a third option for when they die. They can choose to become Soul Guides to help others who have passed on. It is said to give us more time to reflect on what we have done...and see the lives others have led. By committing this selfless act, we are able to find true peace," Munakata explained.

"So that's why you...are a Soul Guide?" Saruhiko asked, and Munakata nodded. "Have you found true peace in doing this?"

"Not fully, but I am progressing. Really that's all I can ask for," he whispered. "Of course if you choose to come with me, you will spend a great deal of time training and learning how to be a Soul Guide. There are many rules, as you could've probably guessed from how things went with you."

Clicking his tongue, Saruhiko folded his eyes. "I had no idea," he groaned. "So this means if I come with you...I'll have to learn with you."

"Yes, you'll most likely be assigned as my trainee since I am the one who recruited you. That means you'll actually have to talk to me, Fushimi-kun," he smirked. Saruhiko rolled his eyes, thinking of all the times he had purposefully walked away from the strange man.

"Hm..." he muttered. "I guess that doesn't sound...all that bad," he grumbled, folding his hands.

"Oya! Is that so? What a switch from earlier-"

"Shut it..." Saruhiko scoffed.

Munakata held his hand out, opening his palm to Saruhiko with a gentle smile, much happier looking than the smiles he had seen on the man's face lately. Saruhiko swallowed, there wasn't any reason to say no. There was no reason for him to run away. Reaching forward, Saruhiko hovered his hand above Munakata's, hesitating for a moment. There was no going back now.

"You’re not running," Munakata smiled.

"A wise old man once told me that I was good at running away, but I didn’t want to be good at that anymore," Saruhiko whispered.

"Oya? Old man?" Munakata snorted.

“Yeah. He was a creep, but I think he meant well," Saruhiko muttered.

Munakata chuckled. "I’d say it’s highly likely he did." Even Saruhiko cracked a small smile. "So," Munakata continued, "Fushimi Saruhiko, will you come with me and be a Soul Guide?"

Closing the space between their palms, Saruhiko took Munakata's hand and wrapped his fingers around his palm and squeezing tightly. "Yes," he said, his hand trembling.

In a way, this wasn't the end, it was only the beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who made it to the end of this angsty monster XD I really really hope people enjoyed it, it was a really intense fic for me to write, but I'm really happy I did and got to share!! xladysaya was my amazing beta and theweakestthing also read and helped me feel more confident with it. Thank you for reading if you did <3
> 
> (Secretly wanna do a comedy sequel where Muna trains Saru and craziness ensues XD)
> 
> [emeraldwaves](http://emeraldwaves.tumblr.com/) is my tumblr.  
> [musickazoo](https://twitter.com/musickazoo) is my twitter if you wanna yell about things with me, especially Reisaru


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